Naveen wrote:I put this with the intention of triggering a healthy debate to get a wider perspective..

But Mirjana, why did u imagine that I know who I am ? @Mirjana : I don't know who I am! How can I find out ?

Naveen,I understood that you wanted to trigger a healthy debate about the question. That is why I confirmed the importance of your question by telling that it is important that you(meaning anyone) knows her/himself. Without knowing self it is hardly possible to know anything or anybody else.Telling you that I imagine that you do know yourself, I actually didn´t say that you know yourself( how could I know it), but turned the question toward you to hear what is your answer about it. Either we are digging in the past or poking in the future, both these actions take us away from the presence where we only can meet our greatness and find God within. It is already well known that we are our thoughts. Why so? Emotions follows our thoughts and we become that what our reactions are. Therefore we are our thoughts or become that what our thoughts are. If thoughts are swinging without our control, what our mind actually tends o do, then our life and our SELF are swinging as well. We become compulsive servants of our thoughts and emotions. There are ways and techniques that teach about that how to become a master of our thoughts and emotions , free from them or for them. It is possible to learn about our compulsive reactions(those when emotional reactions are following our thoughts without control) and how to understand them and turn them into the tools of our choices so that we can meet and explore our greatness.Everything that serves us to become aware of the moment and us in that moment serve well to the purpose. Meditation is great, breathing exercises, physical exercises when done with full presence and attention, like yoga, , some spiritual techniques(I can recommend PEAT and Gnostic Intensive) ect.

I rather like Whitman's answer: "That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse."

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish; Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d; Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me; 5Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined; The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists, and identity; That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Walt Whitman

"A Jade stone is useless before it is processed; a man is good-for-nothing until he is educated."Chinese proverb

Or this one expressed in the poem of Pablo Neruda. John Heard, playing a poet in the movie Mind Walk recites the verses from Pablo Neruda´s poem "Enigmas":

You've asked me what the lobster is weaving there withhis golden feet?

I reply, the ocean knows this.

You say, what is the ascidia waiting for in its transparentbell? What is it waiting for?

I tell you it is waiting for time, like you.

You ask me whom the Macrocystis alga hugs in its arms?

Study, study it, at a certain hour, in a certain sea I know.

You question me about the wicked tusk of the narwhal,and I reply by describing

how the sea unicorn with the harpoon in it dies.

You enquire about the kingfisher's feathers,

which tremble in the pure springs of the southern tides?

Or you've found in the cards a new question touching onthe crystal architecture

of the sea anemone, and you'll deal that to me now?

You want to understand the electric nature of the oceanspines?The armored stalactite that breaks as it walks?The hook of the angler fish, the music stretched outin the deep places like a thread in the water?I want to tell you the ocean knows this, that life in itsjewel boxesis endless as the sand, impossible to count, pure,and among the blood-colored grapes time has made thepetalhard and shiny, made the jellyfish full of lightand untied its knot, letting its musical threads fallfrom a horn of plenty made of infinite mother-of-pearl.I am nothing but the empty net which has gone on aheadof human eyes, dead in those darknesses,of fingers accustomed to the triangle, longitudeson the timid globe of an orange.I walked around as you do, investigatingthe endless star,and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked,the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind.